


Cozy in the Rocket

by nittygritty



Category: Doctor Who (2005), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Doctor Who, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, a meddlesome time machine, and a very flirtatious harry styles, companion!liam, featuring doctor!louis, lilo endgame, so much pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-03-18 04:03:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3555359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nittygritty/pseuds/nittygritty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor Who AU nobody asked for in which a jaded, 22 year-old Liam meets a strange, extraordinary man called The Doctor, and slowly starts believing: in the stars, in love, in The Doctor, and even in himself. And after a few adventures through time and space, The Doctor comes to realize that there's lots of things you need to get across the universe, but most of all - you need a hand to hold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a bit of RTD-era Doctor Who nostalgia, my fondness of Lilo relationship dynamics, and my penchant for Louis Tomlinson in semi-formalwear. Also my undying need to have Harry Styles be Capt. Jack Harkness. Of course, I own no parts of the DW-verse at all. (Oh, if I did...) Not beta'd, but I put lots of love into it. I hope you dig it? Let me know if you do! x 
> 
> Title from "Cozy in the Rocket" by Psapp.

Liam pulled off his apron and tossed it aside before making a beeline for the door. He wasn’t off just yet – he still had to do his bit for the open mic, but he really didn’t feel up to it. Leaning up against the cool brick, he tipped his head back to look up at the sky. Surprisingly, it was a clear night, but Liam didn’t take that to mean anything special. It was just another weeknight working at Danny’s. Another Friday night slinging drinks to university students that didn’t tip enough to foot his bills. And at the end of the night he wasn’t going to be much closer to where he wanted to be, so that was that.

“Well, at least it’s a clear night.” Liam sighed as he pulled out his phone and started thumbing through his contacts for no particular reason. Anyone Liam wanted to talk to at an hour like this was either asleep, or inside of the pub he just left. He stuffed his phone back into his pocket and closed his eyes, feeling out the amount of time he had before he had to go back inside and hop onstage. Breathing the crisp October air into his lungs, he could have fallen asleep just like that. That is, if it weren’t for a loud “vwoorp” sound that pulled him out of his stupor and had him blinking his eyes open. When Liam was finally able to focus on what was in front of him, he was looking at one of those retro police phone boxes a bit off the way. It was, from top to bottom, one of the bluest things Liam had ever seen. But was he seeing it or just seeing _things_? He could have sworn that that thing wasn't there when he first stepped outside.

"Oh, all riiight! I'm going!" Liam looked around, but the streets were relatively quiet for a Friday night, even by Wolverhampton standards. So, that meant that the shouting he was hearing had to be coming from - well, the man that just came tumbling out of the phone box. Liam, unable to do much else, simply stared as the man righted himself and swept his brown fringe to the side, looking around and then right over to where Liam stood motionless against the wall. No second-thoughts about it, giving no introduction whatsoever, the man walked right on over and started _speaking_.

"Hey, you look like a man knows where he is, so... _if_ you don't mind, um, where am I?" The man rocked back and forth on his heels with his hands in his pockets, waiting for a response. Liam just stared back at him, shaking his head clear before kicking off the wall. Liam spared the man one wary, raised brow before addressing the issue.

"I don't know what this is, if this is anything. Hell, it couldn’t possibly be anything, but I've got to head back in so-" Liam jerked a thumb toward the door and backed inside, trying to shake off the strange sight that just unfolded in front of him. That perhaps wasn't the best display of the manners his nan had taught him, but he had a performance to put on. Now was not the time to be thinking about strangely attractive men tumbling out of blue telephone boxes. Maybe it wasn't the kind of performing Liam wanted to do, but it didn't mean he shouldn't do his best. So instead of bothering about some man who had obviously lost it, Liam grabbed a glass of water before standing over by the side of the stage while he waited for the current act to finish up.

Liam, in fact, was so focused on running through the song that he didn't see the peculiarly dressed young man enter and take a seat at the bar.

He didn’t see him at all, but the man saw him. That striking man with his brown hair still in that messy fringe he kept swiping his fingers through, which didn't at all match the fancy-looking black suit jacket he had on dressing up a fitted white t-shirt. His matching black trousers were being held up by a pair of black suspenders with thin white stripes, and they were neatly rolled at the cuff exposing the slightest bit of bony ankle, before stopping right above a pair of checkered slip-on Vans. There was an air about him that distinguished him from the rest of the crowd – wardrobe aside. There was something about him that pulled every pair of eyes toward him, but also drove them away. If he noticed, he didn't seem bothered as he watched Liam clear his throat and bring the mic up to level.

"So, most of you know me - I'm Liam Payne. I've served at least half of you tonight. I'm going to be singing a bit of JT for you all. If you tipped well tonight, I hope you enjoy the song. If your tip was just some shoddy advice, there are for hire applications in the front. And if you weren't served by me at all tonight and didn't get a chance to tip me, you can pass all bills over to the strapping bloke with the perfect hair behind the bar. Not that I'll never see them. This is 'Lovestoned.'"

Everyone laughed on queue like they’d heard it all before, and that was because they had. Liam opened every performance more or less the same way, but whenever he opened his mouth to sing it was always something new, something remarkable. The same people who would hardly give Liam a second look on the street, would stop what they were doing and listen when he got up on that creaky stage and sang. Everyone would pause, trying to take it all in. From the opening little beatbox to his soft _“I think that she knows, I think that she knows oh, oh…”_ it was obvious why Paul made Liam get up there twice a week. His talent was evident, and if the reaction of the crowd was anything to go by, he was definitely part of the reason why Danny’s drew such large crowds on the weekends. And it was quite possible that Paul wasn't torturing Liam as much as he thought he was. As much as he'd drag his feet about it, some part of him had settled on the idea that this was as good as it was likely to get for him. And so Liam resolved to make the most of these small moments – even if they were nothing like the scenes he imagined when he was little, still secretly thought about more than he'd like to admit.

When Liam closed the song, thanked the crowd, and made another beeline straight for the door, it wasn’t because he saw the man with the blue box leave the bar from the corner of his eye; he never saw him come in. Liam told himself that it _wasn’t_ because he was hoping that the man was still close by – but who cared if it was? So what if he was the slightest bit curious? Either way, Liam soon found out that he didn’t have to hurry at all – he only stepped out in front of the pub when he saw the man just a ways off, leaned up against his blue box, legs crossed at his ankles.

“You know, you could have at least told me where I was, _Liam._ ” He almost said Liam’s name like it was an insult. Liam didn’t know how to feel about it, but wouldn’t have minded hearing it again, just to make sure.

“Or _when_ I was. It’s only 2013, manners can’t be out of style yet. And _Wolverhampton_? I mean, _really_?!” He seemed to be talking to his telephone box, and Liam watched. Just stood there gaping at whom he was sure was the strangest bloke he’d ever met in his life. “I mean, really, I’d rather Cardiff.” Liam bristled a bit at that – Wolverhampton might have been a bit smaller than Cardiff, okay a lot smaller, but it was his hometown after all.

“Who are you?” And if Liam’s tone was accusatory, you couldn’t have blamed him. He was a tired, slighted young man, who was a little too curious even for his own liking. The corners of the man’s lips tilted up in a smile and he ran his fingers through his hair, utterly ruining his whatever was left of his fringe, before looking up at Liam.

“Me? I’m The Doctor. And you’re Liam.” The Doctor stood up straight and hooked his thumbs through his suspenders, flashing Liam an almost blinding smile. Liam just narrowed his eyes, folded his arms across his chest in a defensive way.

“What _kind_ of doctor?” The Doctor's face lit up as he grinned a cheeky, sharp-toothed smile.

“Oh, I _like_ you, Liam.” Liam ignored the compliment. 

“And how do you know my name?” Something about this… _doctor_ was off. But Liam just couldn’t bring himself to walk away and head home.

“My dear Liam, I know _lots_ of things. Things most of you lot couldn’t imagine. _You_ might do... though.” The Doctor took a few steps over and gave Liam a once over, like he was sizing him up, measuring something that didn’t have a name. Liam didn’t like it.

“Yeah? Find all of those things in your little phone box, did you?” he asked, quirking his eyebrow and nodding over to it.

“Actually…yes. And it’s not a phone box, it’s a time machine. And she's not as little as you think…” The Doctor trailed off before he shot a fond glance back over his shoulder. Liam rolled his eyes.

“Time machine? You expect me to believe that?” He wanted to laugh, but also didn’t want to be rude. It was obvious that this man was a bit off his rocker.

“Well, time and space, but yes. She takes me anywhere, any-when I’d like to go.”

“That explains how you ended up here and didn’t know where you were. Some ship then. Or maybe just a lousy driver…” Liam sighed before making to turn away head home. The walk was usually pleasant, but the later it got, the colder it was. By the end of his shift, the breeze from earlier started to get a little bite to it - it was time to go home and sleep. Well, not right off. Liam had to work out in the morning, probably had a spot of cleaning up to do tonight, not to mention start and finish his literature composition for class on Monday. Thinking of all he had to do, Liam didn’t really feel like entertaining this Doctor anymore, all of a sudden, who was talking about time and space and things that weren’t possible. Liam had his plate full of things here and now that seemed _just_ as impossible, thank you very much.

He couldn't have made it more than three streets away before he felt a tap on his shoulder. He whirled around, but saw no one behind him. Huffing, Liam turned around to stalk off, but there The Doctor was, stood right in front of him, blocking his path. And he had the most petulant, nearly childish look on his face.

“My coordinates were set perfectly, thank you Liam. The TARDIS just had a change of plans. It was an error of wills, not skill. And you might want to watch how you speak about her, if we’re to be traveling together.” His assuming manner, his light airy way of being was starting to get to Liam. It really was. Liam's eyebrows knitted together and his tone was nearing just this side of pissed off when he replied.

“Who said we were traveling together? I never said that. Never said anything, about traveling with you. I’m traveling _home_ ; to write a paper on _Sense and Sensibility,_ which I don’t think you’ve got very much of, prattling on about time and space and traveling. And even if I _did_ believe you, I’m not saying I do, but _if_ I did – your ship doesn’t seem like it’s in a very cooperative mood right now. So, unless you’re going to write my paper for me, I think I’ll pass...Doctor.” The Doctor, for his part, pulled himself up to his full height (which wasn’t extraordinarily tall at all, considering his attitude), and refused to let Liam by.

“I could write it…or I could take you to Jane Austen and have her write it _for_ you. Liam.” Liam pulled his eyes from the pavement to look up at The Doctor, who was staring at him with a determined look in his eye that made Liam want to shift his weight from foot to foot a bit. He willed himself to keep his knees locked straight, determined not to entertain such utter bollocks. The Doctor just huffed out a breath, looking more weary in that moment than anyone Liam had ever seen. (And Liam looked himself in the mirror everyday, mind you.)

“Listen, I don’t know why, just yet, but it seems like the TARDIS wanted me here, in _Wolverhampton_ of all bloody places, and I think it’s got something to do with you.” He jabbed a finger at Liam’s shoulder, just hard enough to be felt. Liam was just about to tell the man to sod off, but The Doctor interrupted.

“This isn’t some joke, one of your mates taking the mick. And I’m not dangling a carrot in front of you that you can see but can’t grab hold of, like I’m guessing happens a lot to a bloke that works nights in a place like this with a voice like yours. This is _the_ _stars_ , Liam, all of time and space. Other planets, entire civilizations, galaxies away from this one. Anytime, anyplace you can think of. It can be right dangerous at times, sure, but it’s also _fun_. And most importantly, it’s not _here_.”

The Doctor said that last word like he'd known just by looking at him that it was all Liam ever wanted – to get out of this place, this rut he was stuck in. He wasn't wrong. Liam faltered, knees buckling just the slightest. As if sensing a wavering resolve, The Doctor took a step closer, and Liam wondered if people had any concept whatsoever of personal space where he was from. If everyone there had eyes that could glue you to the spot like his, or voices that made them seem hundreds of years older than they actually were. The Doctor looked at him like he could see what he was thinking and shook his head ‘no’ in some kind of response, a knowing in his expression that seemed almost sad. Liam stared back at him, in those endless kind of eyes, and thought to himself ' _How could he have- ? M_ _aybe I've had him wrong_. _Maybe this man, this Doctor, is smarter than I gave him credit for. Knows something I don't. I mean, I wouldn't be here, if I_ did _know another way...'_

The sound of a throat clearing broke his reverie. When Liam looked back up at The Doctor, whatever he'd seen of that sadness was gone.

“And, _another thing_ Liam Payne of Wolverhampton-” The Doctor's every word was marked with a period.

“I don’t make a habit of asking twice. So – _do you want to come with me_?” The Doctor quirked his eyebrows up, that weird energy surrounding him snapping behind his eyes like lightning. Liam swore he could feel it. Could see it there, the challenge that The Doctor was posing him. _Believe me_.  _  
_

Liam Payne may have been a lot of things, but he was never one to back down from a challenge. He closed his eyes and balled his hands up into fists at his sides.   


"Once." The Doctor frowned up as if Liam were speaking a foreign language. 

"What?" The Doctor's voice was a bit indignant, hot with impatience, Liam could tell. 

"You only asked me once." 

And before The Doctor could reply, Liam huffed out a breath took a step backwards, then another. Fighting his instincts the whole way, Liam turned around and started to jog back the way he came, not back toward Danny's, but toward this new thing The Doctor promised him. He broke into a run, unexpected laughter rising up in his throat and threatening to spill out into the empty street when he spotted the blue police box stationed on the street corner.

Liam could hear The Doctor running up behind him.

The sign on the door read “Pull to Open.”

For once in his life, Liam didn't think twice.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to a couple of really sweet comments, and some brand-new free time, I've finally picked this story back up! Hoping to update a lot more regularly. As per usual, I don't own any parts of the DW universe, nor any parts of One Direction. (If I did, Eleven would have regenerated into a woman, and I wouldn't spend my time *writing* Lilo.) 
> 
> Any mistakes are completely my own. Drop a comment, leave a note! Tell me how you really feel. x

“Do you need a bit of help, mate? Looks like you could use a hand.” Liam sat on the railing surrounding the console of the TARDIS, watching the Doctor mad dash around- pulling this and pressing that.

“No, Liam! _Every_ thing is under control. I've just got to-” the Doctor jogged around to the other side of the console, pulled off his shoe, and gave _something_ a well-practiced “thwack” with it before slipping it back on. He didn't even have to untie the laces.

“Are you _sure_? Maybe I wasn't too far off, and you really are a lousy driver. If I were your ship, I wouldn't drop you off where you wanted to go either, with that kind of abuse.” Liam kicked his feet, and, from what the Doctor could tell, happily watched him continue to struggle. For her part, the TARDIS hummed faintly in the background. The Doctor jumped up quickly, head hitting the console in his haste. Liam hacked up a laugh that sounded as if he were dying. The Doctor didn’t think it was _that_ funny.

“ _Really_? His side. Already. He's just got here, and you're purring for him. Meanwhile, I've been trying to fix your gyroscopic stabiliser for weeks! And _who_ is going to jimmy your chameleon circuit next time it decides to start working again, hm? Surely, not Liam! That's what. After all this time, this is how you treat me. And _you_!” The Doctor turned his attention onto an unbothered Liam, quite red and out of breath, who was still laughing, clutching the railing for dear life.

“You’d think a guest would have more manners than you! I'm a _beautiful_ driver, thank you. Thing is, my dear Liam, the TARDIS was originally meant to be piloted by more than one person. And here I am by myself, doing the job of six. And a bang up job it is! So, you just shut it.” The Doctor wagged his finger at a surprisingly quiet Liam, before running his hand through his wild hair, the other on his hip. The silence was strained, awkward. They didn’t usually listen to him when he gave directions, his companions. It was a bit of a first. Not knowing what exactly to do, the Doctor decided on breaking the odd tension in the room by jumping back down underneath the console.

“I asked you if you needed a hand, and you said no.” The teasing tone had gone out of Liam's voice. The Doctor grunted out half a response, throwing himself into his work with a hint of drama the Doctor was starting to tell was typical of himself. _Huh. Not the first time I’ve had a flair for dramatics, I suppose._

“Because I _don't_ -” the Doctor whipped his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and brandished it at Liam. Liam shrugged, but didn’t ask. This was the third time the lad had managed to upset the Doctor’s expectations. The first two times being when he (gratefully) failed to ask the “Doctor Who” question humans typically ask him, and the second being when he took off running toward the TARDIS. For all of his confident chatter earlier, the Doctor wasn’t exactly sure about Liam Payne. Whether he’d come along, whether he’d stay, whether he’d _like_ this new version of the Doctor. Not that Liam knew he was new. _Not_ that the Doctor needed approval from any human beings. It was just all so, well, _new_. Everything about this. The Doctor had to pull himself together. He was a Time Lord. It should take more than a Liam Payne to fluster him. He set himself back to his work, buzzing away at some fried wires on the console.

“So, if this thing was meant for six people to navigate, where are all your time-travellin' mates? Havin' a lads night without you, or what? Or are you really mental, because if you are then I have to tell you, you've done some brilliant work with getting all this-” Liam waved his hands around the console room, “into a telephone box, mate. I'd be dead impressed.”

The Doctor paused in his movements, but didn't get up to look at Liam this time.

“It's just me.” Before Liam could set his lips to ask the obvious, The Doctor interrupted him.

“It's just me. Me and the TARDIS.” The TARDIS itself didn't make a sound. Neither did Liam, who, probably feeling a bit of a chastised child, couldn't even bring himself to look over at where the Doctor was lying across the grating of the console platform. He knew that he wasn't always the keenest at socializing with humans, but even the Doctor knew when he'd hit a wrong note, and he'd definitely struck a wrong chord with Liam just now. He had to figure out a better way of dealing with Liam and his flustering ability. He knew that, and he’d figure it out later. For now, the Doctor finished his buzzing, and briskly pulled himself up to his feet, finally giving Liam proper notice since their earlier teasing. The Time Lord sighed heavily before sending Liam a small smile, which the brown-eyed boy couldn’t help but return times one thousand.

“And now, there's you. So, what I'm saying is, I'm quite a capable navigator, Liam. Have a little faith, man.”

Liam nodded, biting his smile back. Crinkles around his eyes showed all of the times he’d smiled and laughed in his short, young life. Things hadn’t exactly gone according to plan for Liam, the Doctor knew, but it was good to know that he at least had his fair share of happiness, as well. The truth was, he'd already taken a leap of faith when he ran away from the Doctor and toward the TARDIS (which, if the Doctor stops and thinks about it, was Liam running toward _him_ , after all), and if the Doctor hated anything, it was being a disappointment. So he smiled back a little brighter. Just like that, Liam turned into a human Christmas tree.

“Oh, I do. So, where are we going?” The Doctor felt _himself_ turn into a Christmas tree. His new self, this new companion, his ship acting all brand-new - it was mental. The sooner they got out and started exploring, the better. At any rate, there’d be less time for questions, and thinking, and all that.

“Well, I figure, since you seem the “work-before-play” type of man, we'd get your little composition out of the way and visit Austen first, before you get your knickers in a twist.”

“Seriously? All of time and space, you said. ' _The stars, Liam,_ ' you said. Other galaxies and civilizations! And you want to take me to _London_?! I could have caught the rail for all that, mate. I mean, really.” The Doctor knew Liam was teasing, but apparently this version of himself didn’t take well to criticism. They rarely did, lately.

 “ _Hampshire_ , and not back to 1811 you couldn't!” Liam struggled to hold back a laugh. He was waving his hands up and down and nearly wheezing with laughter. The Doctor raised an eyebrow and leaned back against the console, waiting.

“Have you quite finished, Liam?”

“I’m sorry, but if you call yourself being impressive Doctor, you might want to check again. Just a penny for your thoughts. If you can do as much as you say...” Liam quirked his eyebrow up and the Doctor scowled.

“I'll show you impressive, Payne. Just you wait.” He yanked on the engine release lever, and launched the TARDIS into the time vortex. He was going to make Liam bite his tongue.

*

 _Well_ , to be fair, he did remember saying there’d be a smidgen of danger involved. He tells Liam as much as they scurry back to the TARDIS as fast as their feet can carry them.

“Come on, young Liam! Quick as you like! Don’t exactly fancy being plant supper today. I’ve got a few hundred years left in me yet!” Liam jogged forward ahead of the Doctor, tossing a glance back over his shoulder.

“Impressive, you said! Nothing about mortal danger! Nothing about carnivorous plants!” To be honest, the Doctor hadn’t intended on ever making a trip back to Hondran, but he wasn’t going to admit that to a curly-haired human who was too mouthy for his own good. His navigating skills were par-excellence, seeing as how he was the only Time Lord left.

“I did mention the danger bit, it’s not _my_ _fault_ you’re mortal, Liam! Make a left up here-, and there’s a very thin line between impressed and terrified. Have you ever seen one of _them_ before?” The Doctor jerked a thumb over his shoulder back toward the massive Killer Vines snaking toward them, ready to strike with their razor-sharp teeth bared. He didn’t have to chance a glance back, it was enough to hear their bodies thrashing against the ground, the harsh clacking of their teeth as they snapped their jaws shut.

“Don’t think I’ve ever had the joyous opportunity until now, I’m afraid.” The Doctor spared a moment to wonder how Liam could manage such dry humor while he was literally running for his life. He could feel the vines closing in on them, like a sixth sense, the distance between five snakelike heads and themselves getting shorter and shorter.

“Ought to be a tad more grateful, Liam! I’m broadening your horizons!” The Doctor was side-by-side with Liam now, and pulling ahead. The lad, while fairly in shape, was slowing down. This was not the time for slowing down. The TARDIS was still a couple dozen meters away, and the vines, in their fury, were getting faster. Much faster. The Doctor stuck out his hand for Liam to take, but Liam’s face remained grim, and his fists at his sides while he ran as hard as he could, feet slapping against the ground.

It wasn’t good enough. The Doctor knew. And there was no time for Liam to be a stubborn prick about this.

“Come _on_ , Liam!” The Doctor thrust out his hand again, reaching back and grabbing hold of Liam’s hand. As soon as Liam even loosely returned the grip, the Doctor ran ahead and catapulted the boy forward with as much force as he could muster, hurling him into the TARDIS and tumbling in behind him. The TARDIS doors slammed shut behind them, leaving them safe from the murderous flora lurking on the other side. Liam was doubled over the console railing, breathing hard and posted up on shaky arms. Shaken up, but safe.

And that meant that the Doctor was absolutely free to kill him.

“What the _hell_ was that?! Have you completely lost it?! Really, do you care to explain yourself?!” When Liam finally caught his breath and looked up, he had the nerve to have a confused look on his face. As if he weren’t aware of what a complete idiot he’d been.

“I’ve no idea what you’re on about. But I’m fine, thanks for asking, mate.” The Doctor leveled him with a withering glare, his eyes two raging storms centered in on Liam.

“I’m not asking if you’re fine. I know you’re fine. I saved your life. You, on the other hand, seemed to be completely satisfied with getting _bloody_ eaten alive! You saw me reach out for you, I tried to help. And you were stubborn enough, in a moment like that, to refuse. Because what?! Because you’ve done all this before?! Because you’d know what to do had you gotten caught? You think you’re so fit you don’t need anyone’s help? Do you run for your life often, Liam?!” The curly-haired lad blinked slowly, watching the Doctor pace around the room, simmering anger. Eventually, his expression turned into something a bit more questioning.

“You think I’m fit?” Liam’s eyebrow curled up with the question. The attempted joke, if that’s what it was, only managed to further infuriate the Time Lord. In two strides he was standing in front of Liam, and it took everything in him not to pull him in by the collar. He decided to run a hand through his hair and yank that instead.

“Do I sound like I’m in a joking mood, Liam? You almost got yourself killed! Your family, friends, all of those people back on Earth who come round to your pub to hear your sing, all your school mates, would have never seen you again. Do you understand that?! Dead. Your heart - stopped. Why? Because you were too bloody stubborn to be helped. But that’s your kind, innit? For such a brilliant species you are all so incredibly stupid. Too thickheaded to listen to anyone but yourselves. You never, ever listen.” The longer he ranted, the more the Doctor deflated. He settled down into the calm created by his thundering reproof. In place of his anger, the Doctor seemed unspeakably sad, his eyes far away, beyond anything having to do with Liam and what just happened. Even Liam could tell that much.

Eventually, he stopped staring at the Doctor and cleared his throat to speak. And just like that, the Doctor blinked back into the present.

“I’m sorry. For the whole not listening thing. Just- I’m used to doing things on my own, I suppose. Not really in the habit of accepting help.” Liam was tucked into a half shrug, hands in the pocket of his jeans. His face looked like someone had just kicked his puppy. And the Doctor could hear what Liam didn’t say – no one had really been in the habit of offering Liam any help. That’s why he wasn’t used to it. Yeah, the Doctor had to find a better way of handling these sort of things. He didn’t really have a mind to see this face again. Not if he could avoid it. He didn’t want to see Liam pouting unless…No. No, no, no. He just didn’t. Later, he’d figure it out later. He would just have to settle with patching this up for now.

“Well, my young Liam, you aren’t on your own anymore. The next time I reach for your hand to rescue you from mortal danger, take it.” The Doctor meant to make his voice sound stern, rustle up his inner Oncoming Storm, but the answering smile from his companion showed him that he’d drastically missed the mark. Liam, once again, looked like Christmas come early.

“Stop smiling so hard, Liam. You look like the little Christmas man, for Rassilon’s sake!” The Doctor threw his hands into the air, stomping past Liam to take his place at the TARDIS console. Liam stared after him before bursting into laughter.

“What?!” The Doctor turned to look at Liam, who was bent over the railing, red in the face. This time, from laughing so hard. _Well, it’s an improvement._

Liam squeaked out something unintelligible, and The Doctor started setting new coordinates for the TARDIS while waiting for Liam to compose himself.

“All of time and space, brilliant mind, etcetera, and you can’t remember _Santa Claus_? Little Christmas man. Oh god!” Liam fell apart again.

“Oi! Shut it, you! Not exactly human, am I? Can’t be expected to keep up with all of your silly little Earth customs, can I? Been a bit busy protecting all of civilization, not that you would have noticed, wait - did you just call me brilliant? Think I have a brilliant mind, do you, Liam? Not mental after all, eh?” The Doctor wasn’t looking, but he could feel the heat rise to Liam’s cheeks, hear his heart rate pick up. He didn’t mention it aloud, but smirked to himself.

“Well, _you_ think I’m fit and want to hold my hand.” The Doctor snapped his eyes back up only to see an unbearably chuffed Liam. He mumbled under his breath,

“If I’d had known you were so mouthy, I’d have left you in that boring old whatdoyoucallit…”

“What’s that, Doctor? Have something you’d like to say?” Liam hoisted himself up, perching on the rail of the console with a smile.

The loud “vwoorp” of the TARDIS sounded off, and the time rotor slowly started chugging away.

“What’s that, Liam? I’m afraid I can’t hear you! Time-travelling is such noisy business, Payno!”  

The Doctor took off running into the TARDIS, making sure to push Liam off balance and onto the floor as he went.

_Well, at least this me knows how to have a little fun._

He could hear Liam’s heavy footsteps on the metal grating behind him.

_And maybe this one won’t be such a boring old nan after all._

Running back toward the galley, the Doctor realized that he felt younger than he had in centuries. He supposed he'd figure that out later, too. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's the next chapter! After a couple of crappy work weeks getting in the way, I present to you a whopping 11K chapter of retro adventure. If context clues aren't enough for you to suss out some of the old school lingo, or you'd just like to brush up on some cool 50s slang, the guide I used can be found here: http://bit.ly/1tQ4xXf. 
> 
> As per, all mishaps are my own. Thank you so much for reading!! And please let me know how you feel by dropping a line! I appreciate you all. xx

After their first mishap of an adventure, the Doctor and Liam starting running and never looked back. It’d been months (at least that’s what it felt like), and Liam had seen and done more than he ever thought was possible. And it wasn’t. None of it was possible, until this madman called the Doctor.

“I cannot believe I just spoke to _Prince_. Like - actual Prince! ‘Raspberry Beret,’ ‘Little Red Corvette,’ Prince!” Liam hadn’t moved from his perch on the coral he plopped down on once they made it back into the TARDIS. He was just in a room with Prince and Michael Jackson.

Because that was something that happened in the 80s. Liam had just left the 80s. _Ha!_

“I can’t believe Prince actually talked to _you_! Or anyone, really. He’s not a very social lad. Well, selectively. He’s a selectively social lad. I also can’t believe he let you keep that ridiculous jacket. Where are you ever going to wear that? An orchid funeral?” The Doctor gave a haphazard wave in Liam’s general direction, afraid of breaking his keepy-uppy streak. So far, Liam had him at 27.

“Nobody complains when you wear those bloody Vans everywhere we go. Nobody even questions it.” _34, 35…_

“That’s because I have impeccable taste, young Liam. Something you’d know very little about, seeing how you’re still wearing that jacket.” _42\. 43._

“Are you going to do the worst possible thing and attempt to ruin this moment for me, Doctor? Why must you _always_ do the worst possible thing?”

“Because I care, Liam. Obviously.” Liam could feel the sarcasm dripping off the Doctor’s statement. He rolled his eyes.

“Replay,” Liam said. The Doctor paused his keepy-uppies and hopped around on one foot to face Liam, without dropping the football.

“You can’t just call-” Liam couldn’t suppress a smirk. One that he felt he’d recently acquired from the Doctor, but couldn’t help using either way.

“ _Replay_. Or you lose the game.” The Doctor glared at him. He was furious. Liam, for his part, had to refrain from clapping. The Doctor had used this trick against him so many times and Liam was finally going to get his payback. He’d never called a replay before. He was thrilled.

The Doctor repeated himself, his tone dry enough to spark a fire. Liam frowned.

“Replay. No sass.” This forced a sigh from the Doctor, who crossed his arms and rolled his eyes before staring up toward the ceiling, noticeably away from Liam.

“Because I care, Liam. Obviously.” The Doctor had done enough, even if his tone was bored or tired, it wasn’t sassy; but Liam just couldn’t resist hearing him say it one more time. Liam, for reasons he couldn’t quite put his finger on, wasn’t ready to give up the game. Yes, the Doctor was insincere, arrogant, sarcastic - and oftentimes downright rude, but Liam was beginning to get past all that.

Well, sort of.

Liam didn’t think he’d ever get used to the Doctor pinching his nipples and dashing off. In more ways than one, the Doctor was highly unpredictable, but Liam had been around the Time Lord long enough to see past some of the facades he put up. He could tell that for all he tried not to be, the Doctor was a very heavy-hearted man. Liam had seen him brooding about for days, usually without explanation. Liam doubted he’d get one if he asked, so he didn’t bother. He’d noticed the wistful, sad look that the Doctor would get in the middle of telling a story, or when Liam would think up a new list of places for them to go and things to do - as if it were already a time long gone. More than that, on one of their trips he’d seen the Doctor shaking with fury because some cruel person made another suffer needlessly. So, Liam knew that for all his hyperactive flailing and sonic screwdriver waving, the Doctor was also an earnest, righteous, and sincere man. Just one who had lost something. And Liam felt like maybe he wanted to see a bit more of _that_ man, than the Time Lord he was used to entertaining. So he pushed for it, like anything else he’d ever done. He’d pushed this far, after all.

“Replay, shorter.” It was the first time Liam had seen the Doctor gobsmacked for any amount of time, but soon he was on the move, letting the football he was holding in the crook of his foot hit the floor, and stalking over to where Liam was settled in between two branches of coral. Just like that, Liam found all of that crackling energy the Doctor had in his possession parked centimeters in front him. The Doctor had an inquisitive expression, as if he were evaluating Liam. It was similar to the one the Time Lord had given Liam the night he had found him.

Liam couldn’t help but swallow as he waited for the Doctor’s response. Some stupid automatic reaction had his cheeks heating up by the millisecond, and he’d given up on breathing as soon as the other man had crossed the room. The Doctor stood there, just staring at Liam, drawing out the moment, just to smirk and walk away, tossing a quick,

“Obviously,” over his shoulder as he departed the control room.

Liam stared after him. That was absolutely _not_ how that was supposed to go.

But, of _course_ the Doctor would find a way around the replay. Of course he would. The Doctor wouldn’t break the rules, but he’d bend them and bend them until they were nearly unrecognizable. Liam had seen him do it plenty of times before. _“Obviously.” Ugh._ The Doctor had caught him out trying to - what? Get some sort of confession out of him? _Ugh_

Liam was fucked.

“Oi, and another thing, young Liam!” The Wolverhampton lad whipped his head up so fast, he heard something pop in the back of his neck. (He’d have to get it sonic’d later, when he wasn’t busy dying of mortification.) A mop of brown hair and pair of blue eyes were peeking out from one of the entrances to the control room.

“You actually are going to have to take that thing off. Change into whatever the TARDIS gives you. Next stop, I’m going to show you what real style looks like.” The Doctor was gone as quickly as he’d come. Liam sighed, fingers curling into the purple sleeves of the jacket formerly known as Prince’s.

He was _royally_ fucked.

* 

“New York? What is this, the 60s?” All it took was a quick look around and Liam knew he had to be close - they materialized right in the middle of Times Square. He should have known the decade as soon as he stepped out of the wardrobe dressed like an extra in Grease: the white t-shirt, leather jacket, and heavy set of black boots were all quite telling, now. The Doctor was positively buzzing, rocking back and forth on his heels, as he tended to do when he was excited. He was dressed the same as he ever was: Vans, jeans, braces, t-shirt, suit jacket, all in black and white. The only difference was that shirt this time was a Chuck Berry one - something that Liam was sure they didn’t make back then.

“That’s it! Well, close. 1954. The Big Apple! Sick place! Fashion capital of Sol III, Earth, your home, until the eventual swallowing up of your planet by your sun and the establishment of New Earth - whose fashion capital was aptly titled New New York. Not a very creative re-titling, mind you. Which, actually should have been called New New New New New New New New New New New New New New _New_ York, because -”

“Doctor.” Liam cut the Time Lord’s rant short with a sideways glance.

“Well! No need to be so testy, Payno! Just a quick little time and space history lesson for you. See the next time I try to teach you anything. We’re here because, as you can see, 50s New York has magnificent style.” The Doctor waved his hand in front of them both, as if putting Manhattan on display. As if he’d built it himself. Liam looked out at the crowd bustling around them, then back at the Doctor, who was awfully chuffed, his thumbs hooked through his typical pinstriped braces. Liam suppressed the biggest of eye rolls.

“We’re here because the 50s fancied braces? Are you serious, mate?” Liam shook his head in disbelief.

“As ever, Liam! But judging by the outfit the TARDIS let you choose, this life lesson won’t stick either.”

“Hey! It’s still fashionable. Just the other side of the coin, innit.” So what if he was a little defensive? He kind of fond of his look, really.

“Aren’t you always. Come on, are you ready?” The Doctor gave him a side-eye that was hard to miss.

“Yeah, alright. Let’s have a go.” Liam wanted to ask what the Doctor meant by his comment, but decided to just let it go and get excited instead.

“Then, New York!! Let’s have ya!” The Doctor took off in his sensible checkered Vans, while Liam plodded next to him in his heavy combat boots.

Nevertheless, this time around, Liam found that he was holding his own fairly well. He’d grown accustomed to the Doctor’s thing for diving off into “little shops” a few trips ago, and made sure not to lose him in the crowd. Liam had no clue where they were going, but he found that he didn’t mind, as long as he was with the Doctor. And that right there was the crux of his problem.

Whatever _his_ thing was for the Doctor had to be stopped. He had to quit staring when he had no reason to, or bumbling around when the Doctor was adjusting things in the control room. It was one thing if he followed him around when they were out, and Liam had no _choice_ but to watch the Doctor run his fingers through his wild brown hair all the time, or grin that pointy-toothed grin he always had on when they’d found something “sick.” That was acceptable, but the TARDIS was infinite. There were tons of other things Liam could do besides tally up the man’s keepy-uppies while he chatted about other places he’d been, or told Liam stories from before he was on board.

Liam didn’t care to hear it, to be honest. And he knew that that was childlike and naive, because of course the Doctor had a life before Liam, but that was part of the reason why Liam didn’t like to think about it: he wasn’t there.

“Liam! Liam! We’re here!” Liam jolted.

 “Where’ve you been, s’like talking to thin air!”

“Sorry, where are we?” Liam looked around at what appeared to be an ordinary alley, with a couple of back entrances and bin bags piled high from the shops around the front of the street.

“You’ll see.” the Doctor held out a hand to Liam, which the lad stared at hesitantly before taking it. Hand in hand, the two walked up to one of the (rather filthy) back doors, the Doctor gave a rhythmic little knock, and then Liam was hit in the face with music. Loud music. Next thing, Liam was being yanked into the building, which upon opening his eyes, Liam saw was an old school diner. The large jukebox on his left was responsible for the music, the checkered linoleum floors were gleaming, the booths a classic red vinyl, and there was a matching glaring red neon sign over top the counter which read _Tommo’s_.

“Tommo’s. This diner is where you’ve decided to take me to experience top tier fashion. Not Hollywood, not the posh end of New York, not even Las Vegas - here. Doctor.” Liam said his name with a bit of a question, a bit of a scolding, and a bit of a “ _have you lost it?_ ” tagged onto the end.

“Oh, ye of little faith. Get with it, Payno. Let’s make the scene.” The Doctor did a little shimmy.

“ _‘Make the scene.’_ too many bloody films....” Liam mumbled under his breath, but allowed the Doctor to pull him along anyhow, through the throng of busboys and waitresses doing their best to turnaround tables as quickly as possible with a smile, and the small crowd at the counter ordering up. Looking at them, Liam could maybe see why the Doctor brought him here.

Everyone was wildly fit, and dressed to the nines. The lads were fully done up in suits and braces, shoes on a shine, or dressed more like Liam - greased up hair, denim, and plaid or cotton shirts. The birds were all in fit and flare dresses, not a hair out of place, lips and cheeks red as the booths they sat in, splitting milkshakes and laughing into each other’s shoulders. And this place had to be one of the few restaurants during this time period that didn’t care about skin color. Here, everyone was all mixed-up and nobody second-guessed anything. Not the patrons, not the servers, and not the cooks - who didn’t have much time to look at anything besides their cooktops, anyway. The Doctor hurried them through all of this too quickly for Liam’s tastes, directly to the back of the restaurant where a few booths remained empty except for one. When Liam looked closely at who was occupying the space, he leaned over to whisper-shout in the Doctor’s ear.

“Doctor, that’s Marlon Brando and James Dean. Is there a reason why we’re walking toward Marlon Brando and James Dean? Are we supposed to be waiters? I don’t have a uniform on. Neither do you.” The Doctor shot a quick look over to Liam and cracked that devilish smirk that always meant he knew something Liam didn’t know. Liam saw it often.

“We’re here to see friends. Follow my lead.” The Doctor walked up to the booth and cleared his throat, causing both men to look up from where they’d been eating. After a beat or two, Brando’s face lit up in recognition. Liam held back a groan. _God, he’s_ more _handsome in real life. How is that possible?_

“Well, razz my berries. Look who decided to show his mug, Jim! How’s it hanging for ya, Doc?” Brando nodded over to the Doctor, who gave him a wink before turning to Dean, who didn’t seem nearly as enthused. He had no-nonsense expression on his face as he hunched over, giving the Doctor a once over.

“Now, look here. Someone’s lightin’ up the tilt sign. This ain’t Doc Tommo. Looks nothin’ like him.” Dean’s face was grim. Meanwhile, nobody was paying any attention to Liam, who, having pulled away from the Doctor as they approached, was awkwardly stood behind the Doctor, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Who the bloody fuck was _Doc Tommo_? Judging by the way the Doctor was scratching his neck, Liam figured that he could feel the death glare Liam was giving him.

They were in a restaurant named a name which apparently was a name the Doctor used when he traipsed off to the States in the 1950s. One that Liam knew nothing about. The Time Lord had explaining to do, later.

“It’s his eyes, Jim. That’s how I know him. The bluest blue I ever seen. Bluer than Paul’s, even. Than anybody’s.” Brando pointed them out. Dean looked steadily unimpressed.

“Really got your glasses on, don’t you Jim? Remember that night me and you went up that track in Palm Springs and we totaled the Speedster? Newman almost had a cow up in the stands. Toppled down about three rows before he got to us.” James narrowed his eyes at this story of the Doctor’s, then sat back and looked down at his hands, failing at concealing a smile.

“Did, didn’t he? Didn’t let me drive for weeks after that. Some pill you had me swallow, Tommo.” Both Marlon and The Doctor laughed, and the latter looked over to Liam, and nodded toward the booth, where they both took a seat.

“It’s not my fault Paul is such a wet rag. Well, sometimes. Say, where is Paul? Hereabouts anywhere?” Both men shook their heads in the negative.

“But first thing’s - who’s Joe Doe, over here? Manners are lost on you, Doc, and he’s a killer.” Brando pointed over to Liam. James nodded in agreement.

“Gotta admit, he’s got a classy chassis, Doc Tommo.” Dean’s face turned up into a wry smile. The Doctor glared. Liam kind of wished that the TARDIS translation device also worked for 50s lingo, but this _was_ English that they were speaking, kind of. Except it wasn’t - **_at all_**.

“Cool it, Liam’s a friend. He’s hanging around for a while. Liam - Marlon Brando and James Dean.”

“Picked up on that, thanks, _Doc Tommo_. Nice to meet you both.” Liam shot a look at the Doctor, who at least had the good sense look apologetic, before giving his best smile across the booth to the rising Hollywood stars.

“You too, say, if you manage to get away from this old drip, we can play a little backseat bingo later. If you wanna go.” Brando gave him a wink, taking a large bite out of the granny smith apple he held in his hand. Liam blushed furiously. He wasn’t sure exactly what Brando wanted him to play at, but he was fairly certain it wasn’t the children’s game. He was being hit on. By the _Godfather_ himself. And it was just like him to have absolutely nothing to say in response. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to.

“Oi! Ice it, Bud. He’s not for you to mess around.” The Doctor’s voice was quiet, but his tone was firm.

“Easy, didn’t mean to rattle your cage there, Doc. He’s jacketed. I can dig.” Brando put his hands up in the air in an innocent gesture towards the Doctor.

“Is not. Just.” The Doctor seemed flustered, but quickly changed the subject. All three men stared at the Time Lord, the young actors with amused looks, and Liam a mostly perplexed one, as was quickly becoming the norm.

“Anyways, what’s the tale? Where’s Paul? Why is this place buzzin’ so loud? This was supposed to be a lowkey spot, boys.” For the first time, Marlon and James looked concerned. Brando gestured for Dean to speak, while he crunched into his apple.  

“You never do show up unless something’s the matter. Well, I guess I better clue you. Paul’s not here because he’s gone. Taken. And he’s not the only one. All of us are sort of holing up around here, because we don’t wanna be next up to the plate, if you pickin’ up what I’m laying down.” At that, James pulled a box of cigarettes out of his jacket, tapping one out and sticking it behind his ear. Liam could tell it was just for a quick distraction. He didn’t seem like the kind of person that was good at delivering bad news, or hearing it at all. Liam leaned forward.

“What?! What do you mean _gone_?” he didn’t yell, but everyone could feel the Doctor’s energy ramp up just that quickly. The sense of urgency about him. Everyone sat up a little straighter. James cleared his throat to speak up again.

“Like, he’s disappeared. He was set to meet me out here, we’ve got some lines to run. Never made it. No one’s heard from him. He made his flight, but after that - nobody knows where he got round to. People are disappearing all over. At first it was just us, you know? Hollywood types. But now, it’s any Joe Doe and Plain Jane off the streets. People’s folks. Like whoever it is is sweating a little.” Liam hunched forward, brows furrowed. That couldn’t be right.

“That’s impossible! Paul Newman, right? It’s 1954. He’s one of the biggest, most recognizable faces on the planet. No way’s he’s been what - kidnapped? - and nobody’s heard anything about him. Impossible.” The Doctor leaned over to whisper in his ear, “Not quite yet, Li.” Liam tried to nod as discreetly as possible. _Oops._

“Well, that’s the shake. This was a backdoor spot, but it’s really just become a place for people in orbit to check in with each other, stay safe.” Marlon replied, then flagged down a waitress and whispered (what Liam hoped) was an order in her ear. At any rate, she wrote something down on her pad and walked away smiling

“In orbit?” Liam frowned at the Doctor.

“In the know. Say, when did all this kick up? Anyone ever come back?” The Doctor was running his hands through his hair, mind frantic, Liam knew. James shrugged. Marlon turned his attention back to the conversation at hand.

“Couple weeks ago, I reckon. A few showing up here and there, but it’s- they all come back, they can’t talk, Doc. Nobody knows why, but they just can’t. As you can imagine, not exactly the most thrilling of prospects for fellows such as ourselves, in our line of work…” Marlon trailed off, and when Liam looked over at James, he was looking down at nothing. Picking at his fingernails. It was clear that James was really hung up about this; Paul really must have meant a lot to him. Unable to help himself, Liam reached out and covered Jim’s hand with his own. At that, the somber young man looked up at Liam through his eyelashes.

“It’s alright. We’ll find him, okay? I promise.” Jim nodded, blinking back the water threatening to spill from his eyes, pulling his hand baack, and reassuming his previous broody, tough-guy expression - eyebrows settling low over her eyes. Feeling a pair of eyes on him from his left, Liam turned to see the Doctor giving him a blank stare that Liam knew to interpret as secret fury. Not that Liam knew what he did to deserve that. _God, I have never met so many people with such control over their eyes in such a short amount of time. Or ever._ The Doctor sighed and turned to face James and Marlon instead.

“Jim. I’ll have this whole damned city singing until we find him, got it? Until then, take this. It’s Liam’s number. Give us a bell if you need anything, or get hip to anything new...” The Doctor slipped piece of torn up napkin across the table with a number scrawled across it.

“Alright, Tommo. I’ll do that.” Jim tucked the piece of paper into the palm of his hand, biting his lip.

“Me too. Might have to get a hold of that and give ol’ Liam a bell myself. Make him an offer he can’t refuse.” Marlon grinned a cocky grin, finishing up his apple.

Liam and the Doctor looked at each other in disbelief. Liam could practically hear the conversation in his head, a quick exchange of: _He_ **didn’t** _?!_ and _I_ **know** _!_ That the two couldn’t contain. The Doctor coughed to regain his composure, and reassumed his default state of sarcasm and humor.

“You’re a panic and a half, Bud. Have you seen you lately? Nobody wants what you’re hocking.”

“Oh, drop dead twice, Doc Tommo!” Brando smacked his hand down on the table when he spoke. _Dramatics. Actors._ All of a sudden, the Doctor being friends with these two didn’t seem all that much of a stretch to Liam.

“What, and look like you?” Everyone laughed as the Doctor and Liam slid out of the booth and made to leave. As the time-travelling duo walked away, the Doctor pulled Liam in by the elbow, probably not the best way to correct any assumptions made, and whisper-shouted in his ear.

“Never make a promise you don’t know for certain you can keep. You hadn’t the slightest where Paul or any of these people are being kept, or who’s taking them. And you told Jim we’d find him. You can’t make those sorts of promises, Liam. Especially not those.” The younger man frowned at the Doctor’s insistence, but knew that the Time Lord obviously had a reason for what he was saying. He decided to change the subject.

“And you do? Have an idea?” asked Liam.

“Of course, I do. Haven’t you heard the news? I’m Doc Tommo. Come on, let’s split.”

“About that, _Doc Tommo_ …” the Doctor groaned as the two headed off to get a fix on the location of his friend, and everyone else while he was at it.

* 

Liam _would_ be the one to get kidnapped in an evil plot by an alien presence as part of a scheme he wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near, or even _alive for_. That actually makes perfect sense, given the way his luck ran prior to meeting the Doctor. It should have been assumed that the moment they’d separated for any reason that his luck would revert and he’d end up getting clubbed and carried off somewhere. He was supposed to be hitting up a few choice hangout spots for the Doctor, find out if any of the relatives or mates of these poor people knew anything that could help. Meanwhile, the Doctor was going to head back to the TARDIS to do his own (see: actually helpful) research. The last thing that Liam remembered was that he was walking down the street, singing “New York, New York,” on his way back to the Doctor and the TARDIS, and then nothing. When he woke up, Liam knew that he had been taken, and that it was the very person who James and Marlon had warned them about.

It wasn’t some sort of coincidence. Nothing ever was, travelling with the Doctor. Liam let his thoughts wander back toward the Time Lord.    

_Heh, guess I was useful, after all. I figured out exactly where the kidnapper is. Well, sort of. But when the Doctor finds me, I’ll claim I’d known it all along. That’s what he’d do. Maybe since I’ve done such excellent work, the Doctor will let me choose the film for once. Or at least the takeaway. There’s only so many Dominos a man can eat. A whole universe at his fingertips and he chooses mozzarella dippers for his dinner. I’ll never understand it. We’ll chat when I get out of here._

Then Liam realized that it was an “if.” If the Doctor found him, if the Doctor got to him, if Liam ever got home. The Doctor had virtually no way of knowing where Liam had been taken. Liam didn’t know, himself. So, even if he’d had a way of communicating with the Doctor, he’d have nothing of use to tell him. Right. He could fix that. He wasn’t tied up or anything of the sort, but upon standing up and walking, Liam had come to some sort of glass wall that seemed to go all the way round, in a too-small square space. Liam had never missed the TARDIS more. Clearly he was in some kind of prison cell, so moving on, he opted for plan two:

“Hello! Is anyone here?! It’s in poor taste to kidnap someone and leave him alone, you know.” Liam shouted into the dark.

“You aren’t alone, kid. Cut the gas.” Liam heard a gruff voice over to his right, and while the empty warehouse setup was well-lit, he couldn’t make out anything on the sides of him. Oddly enough, the only view of the outside was a frontal view. Liam leaned up against the wall separating him from the voice.

“Hey. They’ve taken you, too. What’s your name, mate? Do you know who’s doing this? Do you know where we are at all? How long have you been here? Have you been here with any others? How is this bloke stealing voices? I mean, it seems sort of mental.”

“You writin’ a book, kid? Good grief.” Liam couldn’t see the guy, but could feel him roll his eyes all the same. Really, Liam didn’t really have the time or the patience to deal with another snarky attitude. Whoever’d taken them would surely be back soon, and he needed to find some way to get a hold of the Doctor. _All these 50s blokes think they’re so above it._

“Listen, if you haven’t noticed, we’re in a bit of a dodgy sitch, so can you just answer the bloody question!” Liam felt himself get warm from the neck up, and knew that she shouldn’t have raised his voice, but he was tired.

“Cool it, man. Easy. The name’s Paul. I’m not sure where we are. There have been a few others since I got here, but they come and go. Calls himself The Trickster. Heard of him?”

“No, not from around here. Wait – Paul? As in, Newman?”

“That’s what my mama calls me.” Paul huffed out a little laugh.

“Oh, thank god! The Doctor and Jim, they’ll be so glad to know you’re alright. Lots of people out there are worried about you.” On the other side of the wall a young Paul Newman’s face frowned in recognition.

“Hold on a minute there, chief. The Doctor? Jim? You mean Doc Tommo? That’s the only Doctor me, Jim, and Bud keep ‘round.”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Doc Tommo, right.” Liam had forgotten about the Doctor’s stupid alias.

“And you’re with him?”

“Yeah, my name’s Liam. We’re together. Well – not _together_ together, what did Marlon say – ‘wearing his jacket?’ There’s no jackets, I’m just travelling with him. We met your friends and I promised I’d find you.” There was a long pause before Paul spoke up again.

“ _You_ promised?” Liam could tell there was something measured about the way Paul spoke. He gave the answer he thought Paul wanted to hear.

“We. We both did.” Liam stammered out, feeling awkward in the cold silence that followed. Not being able to see the expression on Paul’s face made it that much more difficult to see if he had messed up, and he was completely bricking it. What Liam had told Paul was the truth to the question he’d asked, but it wasn’t at all the answer to the question he really wanted to know the answer to, Liam knew. He grew up with two sisters and a best friend who asked him those sorts of questions all the time. The layered sort. He felt badly about it, but needed to get back on task.

“Um. So, this Trickster, what’s the tale?” Liam bristled at how easily the local talk had slipped into his vocabulary.

“Listen – he’s going to ask you–” Paul’s voice cut off suddenly, and Liam popped up in alarm. In front of him was a man, a _creature_ , in a long, black hood. Something like the ones you see at mass, which Liam always bunked off to practice his music instead. If this was because of that, he’d start making the Doctor drop him off for every Sunday mass, he swore. His mum would be thrilled. The Trickster had a mouth, but no eyes or nose to speak of, just deep pits and a nub where the rest of his features should have been. It was all covered by a sickly pale pink skin, and it was so uncanny, Liam couldn’t bear to look without feeling sick climb up his throat. And it only got worse when he noticed that he didn’t see any feet sticking out from underneath the chorus robes.

“Liam James Payne.” The Trickster’s voice sounded like it was being amplified through a movie theater sound system - far away, and all too close simultaneously.

“What have you done to him?!” Liam couldn’t see Paul, but that only made him more terrified. He could be dead on the other side of that wall, and Liam wouldn’t know. He made a promise.

“Nothing permanent. But you do not belong here, friend of the Doctor.” The Trickster stepped closer to the glass window, and tilted his head, as if appraising Liam. Except, he didn’t have eyes. At least not any that Liam could see. He suppressed a shudder and dredged up his best performance bravado

“Agreed! So, if you let us go, we’ll be on our merry way, cheers!” The Trickster didn’t find it funny.

“Everything has a price, Liam. And fortunately for you, I think you’ve got enough to pay it.”

“Well, what is it that you want? Why are you kidnapping all of these people?!” Anger and frustration was quickly replacing fear, for Liam.

“The chaos, here. Don’t you feel it? Everything changing so fast. All the technology, the noise. You can hear it all from so far away. And there are so many humans who want so many things. You’d be surprised what one would give up so that they do not have to give up life, and the silly things they want while it lasts. They’d let me have their words, laughs, and cries, Liam. Just like you will, when this is over.” said the Trickster, putting a gnarled hand up to the glass in a makeshift caress.

Liam snorted, but took a step back anyway. “You’ve lost it, mate. I’ll do nothing of the sort.”

“You _will_. I’ll let you go, so that I can finally come and enjoy the chaos I’ve worked so hard to create. And it starts and ends with your voice. You’ll give it to me, and your friends, these worthless animals you don’t know, but somehow find it in your heart to care about, will think of you kindly. You’ll be their hero. Imagine that – everyone thinking you a savior. Your beloved Doctor will admire your noble sacrifice. And the historical disruption your loss of vocal ability would cause through the ripple of time would be great enough to fuel me through to this dimension with my powers fully intact.”

Liam resisted the urge to ask what The Trickster meant by “historical disruption.” The Trickster obviously knew things about Liam, but he wasn’t about to convince Liam that he was some superstar waiting to happen. Liam knew that wasn’t true. That’s why he was here in the first place. Besides, Liam was pretty sure there were some rules about time-travelling, and he didn’t think that his future would be the same now that he’d gone back in time and found out about it. He supposed he should’ve asked his Time Lord mate about this _before_ he went swanning off into time and space, but Liam had been so convinced he’d missed his chance already, and never stopped to give it a second thought.

The Trickster was wrong about his affection being misplaced. The people in Liam’s life were the best part of his existence, before _and_ after the Doctor.

“If I don’t help you, then what happens to everyone here? On Earth? Are you going to kill them?” The Trickster gnashed his sharp teeth in something like a smile. Liam wasn’t sure you could smile without a face.

“Nothing as vulgar as that. Lowly humans engage in killing games. Nothing will happen to them. Yet. I’ll let you go. But some time away from now, you will make a choice. A choice which will undoubtedly result in your death. This final loss will put a stop to the Doctor’s heroic gallivanting across the universe. He will never recover, and this world, this galaxy, and everyone in it will suffer. Without constant tending to by the Time Lord, alien attacks and vicious warfare will tear through this universe. Either way, chaos reigns. The choice is yours. It is only a matter of time. Now is your chance to be something, Liam. To do something for everyone you care for.”

Liam knew, as the Trickster spoke, exactly what his decision would be. Because he was evil and terrible, but he was right: Liam’s life was nothing, really. Liam’s life wasn’t worth anyone being murdered, or terrorized. Not his mum and dad, his nan, his sisters, Paul or Zayn at the pub, none of them. Let alone an entire universe. He’d go a lifetime without saying or singing a word if it meant that they were safe.

And The Doctor. Liam didn’t want to be another reason behind that Doctor’s hurt. For that sad faraway look he saw on his face whenever he told old stories. He didn’t want to be another person the Doctor lost. At least if he did this, there was a chance that the Doctor would be able to stop the Trickster where he started. They could come up with another way to fix what he planned to destroy. They could do at least that together. And Liam could give the Doctor a future worth looking forward to. Liam could do that for _him_ ,this time.

It was brilliant to think that so many people in some version of Earth’s history loved Liam’s music so much that it’d had that much of an impact.Just the thought of that made him happy and grateful that he could touch so many people. You _could_ miss what you never had, Liam knew that now, as he leaned up against the glass prison the Trickster held him in. He’d just miss what he _did_ have more. In this time, in this moment, Liam had other people to help - _and_ a promise to keep. He steeled himself.

“Yeah, alright. I’ll do it. Just - tell me how you’re going to go about it, first. So, I can prepare myself.” the Trickster made a sound resembling a laugh.

“You might enjoy this. You humans do love your toys. I’m going to activate _this_ sonic device,” the Trickster brandished some sort of large remote device in his hand.

“Which is going to find attune itself to your specific frequencies and emit a corresponding sonic vibration which, when it comes into contact with you and begins to take effect, will nullify and eliminate your capacity for your muscles to come into meet and vibrate, resulting in aphonia - the inability to produce voice. It won’t hurt, I promise. Well, not physically, anyway.” The Trickster let out another manic sound, and Liam shuddered. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine what that’d feel like.

It was sonic. Sonic device. Something like the Doctor’s then. _Right_.

Liam was so _stupid_. _Of course_.

Careful to keep his face as solemn as it had been, Liam slipped a hand into the pocket of his denims and prayed that there was still some battery on his mobile. Thanks to a little of the Doctor’s “jiggery pokery” after they’d left the diner, he was able to use his phone wherever, whenever. He didn’t have to worry about things like signal. The Doctor told him that it was in case Jim called, or Liam just wanted to phone home, and Liam hoped it went without saying - emergencies.

“Go ahead, then. I’m ready. Just make sure you’re ready to hold up your end of the bargain. You undo whatever you did to Paul, and you let us out of here safe.” Liam didn’t have to enter his passcode to make an emergency call, and he was guessing that his emergency dial went straight to the TARDIS. There weren’t any space police that Liam could think of. Hell, as far as he knew, the Doctor _was_ the space police. Surely the Time Lord could find his cell phone signal somehow, if he put a call out, and get him and Paul out of there. The man was bleeding brilliant. He blindly swiped at his mobile from memory, afraid to pull it out of his pocket in case the Trickster saw, and hoped that it was enough.

“Of course.” the Trickster nodded, wearing that same patronizing, nasty grin, and Liam couldn’t help but tense as he moved his gnarly hands over the sonic remote and activated it. Liam felt like his entire body was humming for a moment, literally buzzing. And then nothing. And then it felt as if the buzzing had ratcheted up by a thousand. and it _hurt_. _Sodding hell_. Liam’s first inclination was to scream, and when he couldn’t, a strong panic seized him. It just felt _unnatural_. He’d agreed to this, and he knew what he was resigning himself to, but it felt like his entire body was fighting the notion. For the second time, Liam felt sick.

He choked back the urge to cry, but as quickly as the pain began, it had passed. He didn’t have a moment to process any of what had happened to him, before the walls around him vanished, and he was falling onto the ground. Moving past the shock, Liam saw a man standing above him - blond hair, blue eyes, and grim expression. He took Liam by the hand and hoisted him up onto his feet, putting a calloused hand on his shoulder and giving him a sympathetic nod. _He heard, then._

“Hey nosebleed, I don’t know where you’re from, or really _what_ you are, but why don’t you undo what you done, and fade out of here! The kid ain’t done nothin’ wrong.” Liam heard the Trickster laugh that awful laugh, but couldn’t see him at all. Some weird mist started gathering around wear the Trickster _was_ , but the faceless creature had gone, vanished into thin air. Out of instinct, Liam backed up against the wall, taking Paul with him. You never want to be vulnerable on _all_ sides – boxing lessons had taught him as much. Liam looked around, eyeballing a potential exit, and finding none. He felt something though.

His mobile sending out a pulsating warmth against his leg from inside of his jeans pocket. He could see it lighting up, too. Liam shook Paul’s shoulder, who was still staring at the storm growing in the middle of the room, and nodded as hard as he could, smiling.

“Not to rattle you, but I got no idea what you’re gettin’ at, kid. Slip me a hint.” Liam wanted to groan, but pulled his mobile out and waved it in Paul’s face, pointing like a madman. Paul shook his head. Liam never was any good at charades.

“That’s a far out piece of tin you got there Li, but I’m drowning here.” Liam through his hands up in the air, giving up, when he heard the wheezing woosh of the TARDIS materializing. Liam through his hands up again in explanation, but Paul didn’t need any.

“Yes, kid! You’re on the stick!” he grabbed Liam into a rushed embrace that Liam was secretly geeking over, but hurriedly returned.

The Doctor flung the doors of the TARDIS open, eyes wild and sonic in hand. He stormed out into the cold warehouse room, which seemed to be getting colder and colder by the second. He spotted Liam and Paul at the far end of the room and motioned them to stay put. Liam bristled at that, but did as he was told for once. The only thing that kept him from crossing the room was the murderous look in the Doctor’s eyes. He was staring straight ahead as if he could see the Trickster perfectly well. All Liam could see was how angry the Time Lord was. When he spoke, a chill went through Liam that had nothing to do with the Trickster, whose tone seemed less than thrilled at the interruption.

“Doctor. I thought I’d never see you again.” The Trickster was sounded more irritated than anything else. The Doctor scoffed, crossing the room over to where the Trickster was, and Liam could feel everything he was feeling coming off in waves: the relief of being in the same space as his friends, the leftover anxiety, and mostly, the overwhelming sense of rage. Liam was terrified of what the Doctor would do, even though he knew that _he_ had nothing to worry about.

“Well, here I am. Can’t say I’m exactly thrilled, but this isn’t exactly a chance meeting, is it?”

“And who are you now, hm? New Doctor, with his new pets? Still haven’t found the cure for what ails you, have you?” The Trickster’s voice boomed above and around them, but the Doctor didn’t flinch. He could be anywhere, but the Doctor didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Well, I know you. And I know that you remember exactly who I am, and what I’m capable of. And what my friends are capable of. So, if I were you, I wouldn’t muck about now.” For all of his fury, the Doctor never raised his voice. He never did, when he was really raging. It was the scariest thing about him, in Liam’s opinion.

“You’re too late, Doctor. The Void opens and the Pantheon of Discord owns this universe.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong. Very, _very_ wrong. Because this is _not your universe_.” Liam and Paul watched as the Doctor fearlessly walked closer and closer to where the cloud surrounding the Trickster was seemingly doubling in size. It was getting difficult to see through the mist filling the room, whatever power source the Trickster pulling from getting stronger and stronger. Chaos, he’d said. That was what the Doctor was standing in the midst of. Pure chaos. And he didn’t bat an eyelash. If Liam had any breath left to take, the Doctor would have stolen it from him.

“And – watch me _very_ _carefully_ when I say this–” the Doctor’s eyes flicked over briefly to where his companion and friend stood pressed against the wall on his left. Liam took his cue, and kept his eyes trained on the Doctor’s movements as continued to move closer to where the Trickster was hovering, hands held behind his back. It wasn’t easy, but Liam caught the flash of the sonic as the Doctor motioned toward the TARDIS, flickering it off and on. Grabbing Paul by the wrist, Liam crept along the perimeter of the room, eyes never straying from where the Doctor stood. From the hands behind his back. He edged toward the TARDIS with bated breath, stood directly behind where the Doctor had positioned himself.

“ _Time Lords are_ never _too_ _late_.” The Doctor threw an underhanded toss back toward Liam, who lurched forward to catch the sonic before bolting toward the TARDIS, dragging a confused Paul along with him.

Looking over his shoulder, Liam had just enough time to catch the Doctor thrust _something_ at his invisible target, before stumbling into the TARDIS with Paul on his heels, the doors slamming shut behind them. He hoped he’d interpreted the Doctor’s signals correctly as he pressed the button on the sonic, activating whatever signal the Doctor had it preset to. The whirring of the sonic was thunder in Liam’s ears, because he couldn’t hear a thing on the other side of the TARDIS doors. He slumped down against the console, closed his eyes and waited. _1…2…3…4…_

The TARDIS doors flung open as hard as they did when it landed, the Doctor sliding his way in like he was scoring a last minute touch on goal. Liam heard a massive bang, and saw a blue glow overtaking the black smog that had filled the room, and while he still couldn’t _see_ the Trickster, he’d heard a staticky, garbled cry that sounded a lot like him. The Doctor _did_ yell, this once.

“FLOOR IT! MOVE! ALLONS-Y!” The TARDIS wasting no time in dematerializing immediately.

It was over. You couldn’t tell that to Liam’s heart, which was beating a mile a minute, but he knew that it was. Sat underneath the warm glow of the TARDIS, they were safe.

“Ooh, that is nice! I’ll keep that one, I think. Allons-y. Good.” The Doctor was breathing hard for a man with two hearts, but was apparently just as chatty as ever. And in that moment, Liam loved every second of it, even if he couldn’t join in. He was safe, and so was the Doctor, and he’d done what he’d promised he’d do for Jim. They were going to bring Paul back to him. Liam could listen to the Doctor natter on for _ages_ , and never be bothered. That is, until he heard the Time Lord address the Hollywood star to-be.

“Hey, Ivy Leaguer. Alright?” The Doctor’s voice was soft, and a bit tentative – two things Liam rarely ever heard the Doctor be. He opened his eyes and watched the Doctor walk over to where Paul was standing not far from the exit, and staring almost coldly at the Doctor. Liam figured that his earlier assumption had been correct: Paul and the Doctor _were_ really close. At least, they were at some point. They were one of those stories that Liam never cared to hear about.

“Yeah, peachy. Might want to check your hub cap though, Doc. That Trickster fella did a number on him with that remote control he had on him. Poor kid can’t make a sound.” The Doctor’s face fell just a little; it was nearly unnoticeable. That is, unless you happened to be Liam and you paid attention to the tiny, subtle shifts in the Doctor’s facial expressions, and knew what they meant. In which case, it was like watching a star go nova. The Doctor was hurt by Paul’s cool attitude toward him, Liam could tell.

And he knew then, that he was never going to get that close to the Doctor, not in this lifetime. The Doctor would never let him.

When the Time Lord turned to face Liam, his face gave away nothing. The Doctor squatted down in front of Liam, plucking the sonic from his fingers and adjusting the setting before scanning Liam’s head, eyes, and throat. Liam didn’t feel a thing. The Doctor flopped down to sit cross-legged in front of his patient.

“Well, the good news is that there’s no lasting damage. The poorly constructed, yet very effective sonic remote that the Trickster used on you, Liam, is nothing but a premature, terribly basic version of the sonic screwdriver. Except mine is _much_ _sexier_ ,and has a lot more settings.” Liam shut his eyes and sighed, no sound leaving him. The Doctor was too close to him to be using words like that as his hands hovered around his body.

“That means that I can fix you in a way similar to how we just got rid of him.” Liam’s eyes went wide in terror.

“No, no. I’m not going to blow you up, young Liam. I’m going to set the sonic to your frequency, and emit a low-level wave signal that will jumpstart the muscles surrounding your vocal chords, and nullifying the effects of the aphonia. Think of it as using a defibrillator for your heart, except this sonic pulse is for your muscles. You won’t feel a thing.” Liam couldn’t help but think to himself that that’s what _all_ doctor’s told you went you went in for a visit. His Doctor raised an eyebrow at him in question, as if he could bloody _hear_ him. (Thing was, Liam could never be sure. He’d seen only a fraction of what the Doctor was capable of, and wouldn’t put it past him.) Still, Liam was hesitant. The last time anything sent a sonic pulse through him it felt like his insides were being wrung out to dry.

“Liam James, I’m no ordinary doctor. You won’t feel a thing. I promise.” The Doctor purposefully kept his tone light, but Liam knew he was speaking back to their earlier conversation. _Never make a promise you aren’t certain you can keep._ Liam remembered. He looked up at the Doctor and nodded. The Doctor smiled and went about correcting the damage inflicted by the Trickster. When he’d finished, the Doctor leaned back on his hands, watching Liam.

“Liam, how many keepy-uppies did I do this morning?”

“We got to 43, before the replay. Eep!” his response was quick and automatic. Liam flung his hand over his mouth. The Doctor was right, he hadn’t felt a thing.

“Thanks, _Doc Tommo_.”

“Don’t be an arse, Liam. You’re welcome. Now, everyone cured what ails them?” The Doctor looked over at Paul, who was leaned up against the doors where he was looking at them quietly, and then back at Liam, who still had his eyes trained on the Time Lord. He received two nods in the affirmative.

“Well, then let’s get back. I’m starving like crazy. And we still have to give voices to the voiceless.”

The Doctor yanked the accelerator, flipped a few switches, and the sound of the TARDIS dematerializing was the only one in the room.

*

Both Marlon and James were standing out from of Tommo’s when the boys arrived – tired, but safe, and vocal chords very much intact. Liam watched as Marlon give Paul the boisterous, loud greeting he’d expected, but what interested him more was the brooding Jim, who, even though he got Paul back, still looked unbearably sad, as if it’d take him an age to get over losing him in the first place. Deep down, Liam felt as if he could relate. The Doctor was right next to him, but the Trickster’s words had stuck with him: the image of a Doctor-less life was one that still haunted him. And Liam imagined it would for a long time coming.

“Well, as lovely as this has been, I’m afraid Li and I have got to get going boys. You know the number, don’t act like a bunch of squares.”

Individual goodbyes were exchanged, Liam coming to grips with Brando’s cheeky mouth just when it was time to leave, and receiving a heartfelt hug from Jim which took him a little by surprise. The Doctor was standing by the TARDIS doors, waiting for Liam to finish up, when Paul tugged on his sleeve and pulled him aside. He coughed once in his hand before speaking up.

“I just wanted to say thanks, Li. It takes some kind of crazy to stick your neck out for a guy you’ve never seen once in your life, but I’m glad you did. We all are.” Paul glanced over at Marlon and James, who were sharing a smoke over by the diner entrance, talking amongst themselves.

“Well, I made a promise. I like to keep my promises, Paul.” Liam shot blonde man a level look. There was more to it than a simple “thank you,” Liam knew.

“He means a lot to you, I can tell.” Paul jerked his chin over Liam’s shoulder, where the Doctor was stood waiting. He went to protest, but Paul cut him off.

“No, no. It’s alright. It happens to all of us, to a degree. He’s just got that crazy, cranked up thing about him. Like some sort of magnet, you know?” Liam swallowed, he couldn’t say anything in his defense, really.

“You’re real gone over him, plain as day And the Doctor has never been as on the stick as he’d like to think about keeping that stuff quiet. But Li, you might wanna cool it, ease off the clutch a bit. Because the Doctor can’t stay. He always leaves, some time. And there are some places that regular old nosebleeds like us can’t follow. You can end up giving away more than you bargain for tryin’ to chase a bird won’t be caught, Hep?” Liam nodded hesitantly. Paul was giving him a friendly warning, but a harsh reality check. One that Liam felt like he may have needed to hear.

“Yeah, yeah I think I am. Thanks.” Paul nodded in return, breaking into a slow, but sincere smile as he made his way back to his friends. Liam turned back and made his way over to the little madman with the brilliant blue box.

“Alright there, Li?” The Doctor looked concerned.

“Just fine, word from the bird.”

“Yes, it’s _absolutely_ time to go. Past due, I think. Never say that again.”

And like the set of cool kings they were, Brando, Dean, and Newman didn’t stay to wave the Doctor off. Instead, they flicked their cigarettes out against the building and went back into Tommo’s, where they no longer _had_ to stay, but where they wanted to be the most.

Anywhere else in that moment was nowhere at all.

* 

“So, Doctor. You didn’t explain when we were in New York - what did you actually _do_ to the Trickster? I heard the explosion, and I saw a blue light, but I don’t know what happened. You didn’t kill him.” It wasn’t a question. Liam knew better. He was lying on the deep blue couch he’d managed to convince the Doctor to put in the control room (“It’s where we spend most of our time, anyway. And don’t you think I deserve it, after all this? I’ve been _traumatized_ , I need _comfort_.” The Doctor grumbled about “dramatics being contagious” - whatever that meant. He was usually above the Doctor’s antics, but Liam had to admit that they were effective because he got his sofa, and it was lovely.)

“No. The Trickster wasn’t really in this universe, Liam. I couldn’t have killed him if I’d wanted to. He was trying to break through the Void.” The Doctor was sat on the arm of the couch by Liam’s feet, arms locked around his knees, feet still in his trademark checked Vans. Liam’s mum would pitch a fit. Liam held his tongue.  

“The Void?”

“The empty space that separates universes. The Eternals call it Hell. It’s a place outside of time and space, unaffected by it. Either way, the only thing that could seal any cracks in this universe, keep Void stuff in the Void, is large amounts of artron energy. That blue glowy light you saw?” Liam nodded along, even though he wasn’t sure the Doctor could see him from there.

“Well, that’s what that was. Think of artron energy as a kind of background radiation you pick up from the Time Vortex. The Trickster, he’s vulnerable to it, to time, to me. He thrives on chaos, on disrupting history and time to gain power. Time is his kryptonite. I knew that the Trickster couldn’t harm me - his powers are useless against Time Lords. It’s why we don’t cross paths more often. _Anyway_ , the TARDIS runs on artron energy. What you saw me do was take an artron energy cell that I took from her, and attach it to the sonic remote the Trickster was using to manipulate you.

“When you used the sonic screwdriver, it sent out a signal to the remote which caused it and the energy cell to combust, weakening the Trickster’s abilities, ejecting him into the Void, and mending any breaches he may have created in this universe.”

Liam said nothing, busy lying there trying to process all of what the Doctor had told him. He _thought_ he understood. Maybe. Liam was tired.

“I’ve got a question myself, Li.” The Doctor shuffled in his spot to get a better view of Liam. The Wolverhampton lad mumbled out a go-ahead.

“What did the Trickster say to you? I know how he works. He can’t do anything to you unless you make a deal with him. You gave up your voice for something. What was it?”

“Why do you want to know?” Liam sat up. His tone was wary when he replied.

“I was curious. I know how much it means to you, the singing. Could tell from when I saw you that night back at the pub. I was wondering what it would take for you to give up something that makes you so happy.” Liam stared at the Doctor for a moment, pausing to think of what to say. There was no way he was going to tell the Doctor everything that the Trickster had told him. He did what he had to in order to spare the Doctor of the fate the Trickster set out for him; Liam wasn’t going to haunt him with the picture of it now. And he wasn’t going to embarrass himself either.

“There’s more than one thing that makes me happy, Doctor.” Liam didn’t want to lie, but he had to deflect. The Doctor shook his head, hair flopping forward as he sat up straight, pulling himself up to full height. As if that did much for him.

“No, no, no. But singing makes you the most happy! Liam, don’t you get it?! The Trickster disrupts history. If the Trickster abducted you, if he wanted you to give up your voice, and that’s what was going to give him the power boost he needed to physically break through into this universe, you know what that means, don’t you?! It means you make it! You become that much of a legend, more than all of those classic Hollywood stars, Liam. They weren’t enough, but _you_ were. You.”

Liam attempted to give the Doctor his best blank stare, but his heart was beating double time. Even if he knew what the Doctor was saying, hearing _him_ say it, the way he was saying it, was affecting Liam more than he cared for. He was hoping that the Doctor would attribute the increase in his heart rate to hearing the news, and what exactly the Doctor was saying. Of course, both of those couldn’t possibly work out for Liam.

“You knew. You knew!” The Doctor was standing up on the arm of the couch pointing down at Liam like he was accusing him of murder.

“You knew, and you were gonna give it all up anyway! You stupid, _stupid_ human! Why would you do that?!”

“I told you. There’s more than one thing in this world that makes me happy, and there’s more important things in this world than my happiness, Doctor. Like my friends, family, people I care about. Like keeping my word when I give it.” The Doctor visibly deflated, plopping back down on the couch.

“Ugh, I suppose.” The Doctor was a centuries years old Time Lord, but every once in a while still managed to sound like a bratty seven year-old kid. Liam couldn’t help but laugh.

“And anyway, I figured that because I’d found out about it already, that it’d never happen. You know, like in the films. Paradoxes and shit.” Liam made a juggling motion with his hands that was supposed to be a time paradox.

“Oh! Oh, my dear, young Liam. No! _Absolutely_ not. Not how it works.” It was the Doctor’s turn to laugh, and he was howling. Liam’s eyebrows furrowed of their own accord.

“No?” the Doctor cackled.

“Not at all. Nope.”

“Huh. Well.” Liam was gobsmacked.

“Right. Well, maybe we should move on from the fashion lessons and give you a little bit of a primer on time and space. Maybe we should have started there. We can schedule those lessons for next week, put some more work into our student-teacher dynamic.” The Doctor was joking, clearly, but that lighthearted kind of chirpsing around was what got Liam in the predicament he was in now.

In fact, all their conversation did was remind Liam of an earlier vow he made to himself: stop mucking around the Doctor all day and explore the TARDIS more, so that he could avoid these sorts of conversations. Whatever sort that was. And Liam didn't think he'd forget what Paul said to him anytime soon. Liam reckoned that he’d go and find the gym or something. The Doctor mumbled one day about putting it in the holding ring - he wouldn’t dare follow Liam there. It’d be a safe space. Liam pushed himself up off the couch. The Doctor promptly rolled over and stretched out across the couch.

“Well, none of that matters anyway. I’m already superstar material.”

“Liam. Replay.”

“Are you _serio-_ ” “Liam!” Liam wasn’t fast enough, and was too late to catch the Doctor before he leaped up and got hold of his nipple, twisting hard.

“Fine! Fine!” The Doctor sat back on his haunches, waiting. Liam did as he was told, but apparently not to the Doctor’s satisfaction.

“Replay again. Like you _believe_ it, Liam.” The Doctor’s expression was flat, almost upset. He was _absolutely_ serious. Liam realized what the Doctor was trying to do, and it wasn’t just about getting revenge for earlier that day. He decided to appease him, just this once.

“Well, none of that matters anyway. I’m already superstar material.” Liam figured that’d be enough, and made for the stairs on the opposite side of the room. If he wanted to get to the gym that day, he’d have to leave sometime soon. The Doctor, however, didn’t seem to care if Liam had alternate plans or not.

“Oi! Liam. Replay, one more time. Shorter. With feeling.” Liam was over the cheerleader routine. It was nice, but he didn’t need anyone (particularly the _Doctor_ ) telling him how great he was. If his day had taught him anything, it was how much chasing fame and status didn't matter at all. Not nearly as much as who was running beside him right then and there. Liam decided to play the game using the Doctor’s rules. They always worked. He turned around and looked at the Doctor, who still hadn’t left the couch he claimed to hate so much.

“Well, none of that matters, anyway.” Liam smiled his best cheeky smile and went to go about his business.

And if it meant something more to Liam than it did to the Doctor when he’d heard it - well, nobody had to know.

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. This might be my first fic in this fandom. Leave comments! Let me know if you see any errors. Let me know how you feel...


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